


But Everything Looks Perfect from far Away

by j_marquis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anniversaries, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Romance, pre game, so fluffy it might rot your teeth, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9614501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_marquis/pseuds/j_marquis
Summary: A first anniversary, a gift, and all of Gladio's nervousness therein.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waywardmelody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardmelody/gifts).



It wasn't as though it was Gladio's fault that he asked Ignis out on Valentines Day. He forgot it even was a holiday. After all, it wasn't well practiced in Insomnia anymore, more of a children's game, another way for kids to tease each other about romantic inclinations. Something couples got excited about, in their younger days. He had simply forgotten the significance of it.

He didn't remember until they were coming around to an anniversary. Their first, it had to be something special. He had to make it something special. He wasn't sure Ignis would even remember, he was working so hard, resting so little, they barely even found time to be together. Sometimes, in the small hours of the morning, Gladio would let himself in to Ignis' tiny apartment, only to find him slumped over his computer, fast asleep mid-sentence, the computer still typing nonsense into the page from his cheek on the keys. And Gladio would pick him up, carry him to the bed, tuck him in. It was the only time they had to be together. Gladio would curl up around him, hum little songs until Ignis fell asleep once more.

There wasn't a chance Ignis would remember the first time Gladio asked him out. Their first fumbling kiss that tasted like beer and sweet pastries. When Ignis laced their fingers together and tried not remind him of what time they had to be awake in the morning. The times he tried not to worry aloud about Noctis. He wouldn't remember, he didn't know, the way Gladio's heart had skipped a beat when Ignis finally smiled.

So it had to be something special.

Ignis had simple likes, he knew. Coffee, books, a chance to rest somewhere peaceful. He didn't like the palace, didn't feel like he belonged there, at least, not when he wasn't working. So Gladio knew he had to take him out. But Ignis also didn't have the head for camping that Gladio did, he liked the outdoors, but he also liked warm baths and real bedding. 

And then it hit him. He had to make Ignis feel like he was somewhere he belonged. Give him something to remember, there was always somewhere he belonged. And he hoped against hope, against all likelihood, that it would be with him.

That there would be more nights like the one he took Ignis outside the city to stargaze. The one when Ignis curled up against his side and read aloud to him until he fell asleep. The time they attempted to bake a cake, almost set the Amicitia house kitchen on fire. There would be more time to get to know Ignis Scientia. Time to show him more of the world beyond their walls, time to introduce him to the rest of the Crownsguard. Time to let him feel like he really did belong, among the legacy and lineage of the castle and it's guardians. He was one of them. He belonged, and he would stand up to guide the future king just like Gladio would. They would stand together.

They were curled up on Ignis' sofa, watching an old movie on his laptop, his head on Gladio's chest. He skimmed his fingers over Ignis' throat, his shoulder, the jut of his collarbone where he was almost too skinny. And he knew what he wanted to give him. He knew everything that Ignis deserved, and maybe he couldn't give him that. But he could try. So he took Ignis to bed, kissed him deep and made love slow, and he planned.

The hardest part, it turned out, was finding time they both had free. Money wasn't an issue, there was plenty of that in the Amicitia name, and Iris knew of a place that could make what he wanted. At least part of it. What he wanted, needed, more than anything, was time, and there was so little of that. Two days, without the prince, without tasks or meetings or training, was almost more than he could hope for. But hope he did, and plead and beg and make promises to take on all the extra work if he could just have those two days, and maybe he could take Ignis with him?

Noctis was happy for the chance to be away from his combat training, and his minders, for a couple days. And it was his good word that got Gladio the holiday he had desperately wanted. One night, the king said, and not a second more. And it was merely fortune that no one asked why. He didn't want to have to explain why he had no intention of continuing the Amicitia line. Why he was spending all his time with the too skinny too smart Ignis Scientia.

And keeping all this from Ignis while he planned. A hotel, on the outskirts of the city, pleading until he got a room on the top floor so they could see all the lights. He'd order them room service, maybe beg one of the older Crowns Guard for a bottle of champagne. Ignis deserved it. He deserved so much more.

He hated Gladio's motorcycle, even though he clung to him while they drove to the hotel. He deserved to not look so tired, so worn, even at so young he held all his years in the furrow of his brow, his sagging shoulders. He deserved more than just one night away from his duties at the palace. But one night was what they had. He deserved a lavish suite, not this single room. But it was all they had.

And Ignis treated it like it was the greatest thing he had ever seen. He coped with the motorcycle, looked around the hotel with wide eyes, threw himself into Gladio's arms once they were alone. And Gladio kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him until they couldn't breathe, until he was dragging Ignis down to the bed with him, a fine dinner and the lights of the city, and the champagne in his overnight bag ignored in the warmth of Ignis' slight body. He pressed his hands to Ignis' sides, pulled him closer, opened his mouth to insistent kisses. Heat pooled between them, and the room was growing too warm, his clothes too constricting. Ignis, he decided, was wearing far too many layers. That blazer had to go. He pulled it off, tossed it to the floor. Ignis looked after the discarded clothing disapprovingly, but set instead to pushing Gladio's shirt over his head, exposing the lines where his tattoo needed still to be filled in. Gladio threw his shirt in the same direction as the blazer, and sat up, pulled Ignis into his lap.

He told Ignis he wanted him, he adored him, he was so beautiful bathed in the lights of the city skyline. He whispered it into their kisses, against his skin when he brought his lips to his jaw, his throat. He unbuttoned Ignis' shirt to reveal pristine, unmarked skin, drawn over thin muscles. He'd filled out, no longer the skinny thing they brought to the palace when he was hardly old enough to look after the prince. He was tall, he was strong, he could compete with Gladio in almost every way. They were equals, and they took to their desperate kissing, their fevered touches, as equals, as partners. Ignis slid easily out of his shirt, set his glasses aside, and for a moment Gladio couldn't breathe, to see him, straddling Gladio's lap, the dancing lights played out on his skin, his eyes were the most startling green, blown wide with arousal. A vision like this deserved the world, so much more than Gladio could offer.

And yet he wanted Gladio. He made that clear with an insistent grind down on his crotch, a biting kiss over his collar. It would leave a mark. Gladio didn't care. He dug his fingers tighter where they pressed against Ignis' back, thrust up against him. Ignis let out a strangled sound, a soft moan, and Gladio realized that clothing was increasingly more of a trouble than it was worth. But to remove it would mean separating himself from Ignis. So he flipped them, easily, Ignis was still light in his arms. That would be easier. It was simple to undress Ignis fully, so he indulged in slower movements, tracing his lips, his tongue, over pale legs, feeling him shudder. He was more hurried with his own pants, yanking them off so he could wind around Ignis again, rock their hips together without the frustrating layers of clothing. It was release, in it's own way, just to feel how hard Ignis was for him. How much he wanted this.

There would be time later, for slower, more intimate lovemaking, for taking Ignis apart, letting him finally get out of his head for a change. This was fervent, desperate, when Gladio took them both in one hand, ducked low to bite his own mark into Ignis, low enough that he could cover it with his shirts. He cared much more than Gladio did about sporting bruises in front of palace officials. It wasn't clear, though, that he cared bout much more in that moment than thrusting into Gladio's hand, against the calluses on his fingers and the slick firmness of his cock. This was a time for release, so they could be slower, enjoy each other more for the rest of this rare night alone.

The grasp of Ignis' fingers on Gladio's arm broke skin when he came, head thrown back, silently forming words, entreaties, pleas of Gladio's name. It was breathtaking, beautiful, and it sent Gladio to the same release. He was louder, burying his cries in Ignis' sweat damp skin. They latched around each other while they gathered breath, and Gladio laughed. It was all he could do. So much better than he had expected.

"I take it you like it?"

"You remembered our anniversary." Ignis mumbled, tucked against the warmth of Gladio's body.

"Did you?"

"Only when you said we were going out. I hadn't time to prepare a gift."

"You're a fucking gift." Gladio kissed him, as if to prove a point.

"Can I give you something all the same? Belated, of course."

"I'll love it no matter how late it is." He reached over Ignis, turned on the light, handed him his glasses. "I, um, I got you something else."

"You're nervous."

"Yeah. I, I guess I put a lot of thought into this. And it's kind of special to me, so I hope it's special to you too, I mean, maybe it isn't your style, but-"

Ignis cut him off. "I know I'll like it."

He pulled out a small black box, a simple thing, unadorned. Inside was a small obsidian skull on a chain, the same design the Crowns Guard all wore somewhere on their clothing. Something to make him one of them. Something to remind him he belonged.

Ignis turned it over and over in his fingers, brow furrowed.

"I'm sorry, I just thought, you know, since you're one of us, in a way, you could, um, have one too. Is it too much? I hope it's not too much. You know, usually ours are on our clothes, or bigger, or whatever, but that didn't seem like you and," he knew he was babbling. But Ignis wasn't reacting.

"Will you put it on for me?" Ignis asked, quiet.

He did, and Ignis did something strange. Gladio could feel the magic inherent to their position as it gathered in the room, even a tiny bit of it. But Ignis touched the clasp of the small chain, and it melted, fused. It would never come off. Not unless someone broke it. Gladio could have cried for all that meant.

"I love it."

Gladio kissed the back of his neck, just under the sealed clasp. "I love you."

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with me at aftepes dot tumblr dot com!


End file.
